Picture Perfect
by seaa
Summary: When Duo tires of hopeless date after date after date, he decides to get Quatre, an artist, to draw him a picture of his Mr. Perfect. Never would he have thought that Mr. Perfect actually existed…
1. Default Chapter

Title: Picture Perfect 1/3+Epilogue

Author: Seaa (seaa00@yahoo.co.nz)

Rating: PG-13

Pairing: 2+1+2, 3+4

Genre: AU

Archive: FF.net and MediaMiner, as of now. I will be extremely flattered if you want it, just let me know.

Warnings: Sad attempts at humour? OOC?

Disclaimer: I have never, nor will I ever, own Gundam Wing and all things contained within. I do, however, own this fic, which I have painstakingly typed out from scratch.

Summary: When Duo tires of hopeless date after date after date, he decides to get Quatre, an artist, to draw him a picture of his Mr. Perfect. Never would he have thought that Mr. Perfect actually existed…

Notes: Feedback is always appreciated and will earn you my never-ending gratitude. It's a little slow, but Heero is coming soon, I promise. 

Lots and lots of thanks to Dark Tenchi for the beta! *glomps*

***

Chapter One 

Duo stared at the chattering girl in front of him, trying to force an interested look on his face. Too much make up, not enough brains, and an _incredibly_ boring way of speaking – who even knew what the hell she was talking about? Oh, did he have a way with the girls, or what?

Well, there did happen to be a scattering of guys in his 'Bad Dates' history, he mused, while staring at her blankly. But they were mostly few and far between, for a reason that eluded him. Perhaps it was the way he was going about things? With the girls, he didn't have to go after them, they just came to him. He grinned slightly, and the girl beamed back at him. 

Duo looked down at his plate of half-eaten food. Maybe he should start raising his standards. But hell, he wasn't going to lie, it was so damned simple when possible dates practically threw themselves at him… and they always seemed so nice when he decided to ask them out. But he never seemed to have any luck on first dates. At all.

Oh, he had thought things were about to change… she was pretty enough; the fluorescent lights at the club had been flattering to her. She had laughed at everything he had said, but now he realised – and boy, did it hurt – that she hadn't said more than a word at that time. Well, she certainly was making up for that now.

"-was just _so_ amazing, y'know?"

Was it him? Was he not trying hard enough to make any of his potential relationships work? Or was there something about him that repelled all the semi-attractive, intelligent females – strike that, people – in his part of the world? There had to be someone, right?

"Duo? Duo?"

Gods, was she still talking? Duo flashed her a stunning smile, and she beamed back, as she had done the last couple of times. Damn it to hell, now, he'd forgotten her name. What was it? Pansy? Petal? Polly?

"So I was talking to Melissa, and she was all, 'Petunia, c'mon, I so don't agree with you!' but she's so wrong, y'know? Y'know?"

Ah. Nice timing. Petunia, then. Duo wasn't sure, she seemed more like a Polly to him. Still, if she said her name was Petunia, then so be it. Then again, he didn't really want to be up at the alter saying 'I take thee Petunia', that didn't sound right. He'd much rather be saying a name like-

"Duo? C'mon, what do you think?" Damn, her voice was so whiny!

"Oh, Petunia, of course I agree with you!" He forced another grin, which seemed to pacify her. Why, oh why hadn't he taken that cute blond's offer? 

The guy was cute, he remembered, nice hair, nice smile – Ah, he remember why he had refused. The guy had looked too much like Quatre. And he definitely wasn't comfortable with the thought of making out with a guy that looked – and sounded – like his best friend. No, there was something terribly… wrong, with that image.

Dammit. This was just stupid. He thought back to last night, when he had first asked her out. He had thought she was the best person in the whole damn place. Except… he narrowed his eyes, trying to remember the person that had caught his eye once… 

It was before the 'blond that looked like Quatre', and after Petunia and her friends had latched onto him. The guy had been about the same age as Duo, he remembered that. A dark haired, blue-eyed guy that had watched Duo, as Petunia and her friends surrounded him. The club had been dark, so Duo couldn't exactly remember how the guy looked. But when he had looked straight into Duo's eyes, the brunette could have sworn his heart had jumped straight into his throat. And no guy - no, no person, had ever made him feel that way.

Well, it was too late now. He hadn't gone over to 'Mr. Blue Eyes' then, and instead of a possible hot date with the gorgeous guy, he was stuck with Miss 'can't shut up even to eat'. 

Duo glared half-heartedly at Petunia's hardly touched plate of food. He didn't quite understand why some girls seemed to think men found it appealing when they ordered the most expensive thing on the menu, only to end up picking at it and proclaim that they were 'watching their figure' and 'couldn't simply eat another bite'.

Just then, his cell phone rang, putting a pause to the girl's endless line of speech. There was nothing wrong with talking, he loved doing it himself, but why did she have to pick such inane topics to babble about? He flipped on his phone, whispering a silent thanks to whoever had decided to call him.

"Hello? Duo speaking!"

"Duo!" He grinned, he could recognise Quat's voice anywhere. "Oh, so sorry to interrupt your date, by the way, how's it going?"

"Great," he bit out, and he could almost imagine Quatre wincing.

"That bad, huh?"

"Oh, yeah," he smiled slightly at the girl, who was fidgeting, then told Quatre a quick 'hold on' before looking at her again.

"This might take quite a while, and it's rather important. Petunia, if you'd excuse me?"

She giggled – why? It wasn't even funny! – and nodded vigorously. He rose from his chair, and made his way to the outside of the ridiculously expensive restaurant they were in. As soon as he was safe, he burst out, "Lord, I could kiss you for calling me, Quat. How'd you know I'd need saving?"

"Well, you do know that the odds are sort of against you now, don't you?"

"Yeah, rub it in, rub it in. So, what's up?"

"Oh, I'm just checking, you know I'm having a housewarming next week, right? I've finally managed to clean my new place up enough. I'm guessing that you won't be bringing a date."

Duo grinned. "You guessed right. And you _will_ be inviting people with brains, right?"

Quatre laughed, the sound breezing through the phone. "You know, Duo, have you ever thought that if you stop looking for dates, the right person might just… bump into you?"

Duo sighed, an image of cobalt eyes entering his mind. "Yeah, but if I stop looking, I might miss… the perfect person, you know? And I'd hate to think I gave that opportunity up just because I was tired of looking."

"That doesn't mean that you should pick people that throw themselves at you – that really doesn't bode well for a long-term relationship. As you should very well know by now."

Duo fidgeted uncomfortably. "Quat, save the relationship lecture when I'm not hiding from the worse date ever. Anyway, how are things going with your so called Mr. Perfect?" The change of subject was swift, and either Quatre didn't notice, or let it slip. Duo knew very well that ever since he met one particular Trowa Barton, Quatre would practically jump at any chance to talk about him.

"Things are great! Trowa is so amazing! Things are just… well, it's going really, really well."

Duo groaned in jest. "You sound like you've fallen head over heels over toes, Quat. I've never heard you quite so… sappy."

Quatre coughed. "You can judge for yourself - he'll be coming to the party too. He said he'd be bringing some friends of his, too. I haven't met them, but, well-"

"Any friends of Mr. Perfect are welcome to meet me…"

He could almost hear the smile creep into Quatre's voice. "Maybe Trowa has better taste than you."

Duo laughed obligingly. "He must, he picked you for a boyfriend, didn't he?"

Quatre chuckled slightly. "And now I wonder why you haven't found the right person. You can be downright charming when you want to."

Duo shook his head. "Apparently just not to the right people, huh. He sighed as a pang of obligation swept over him. "Guess I've gotta go now, Quat."

"Of course," Quatre said breezily, "Can't keep dear Petunia waiting, now can we?"

Duo groaned. "Now would be a good time to remind me why I still go on dates?"

"Too much hope, Duo. Too much hope – but a lot of bad luck."

Duo muttered his agreement. "Maybe there's like a love curse on me."

Quatre laughed. "You only wish! I'll see you tomorrow; meet you for lunch or something, okay? I'll give you a call."

"You do that, Quat." He listened as the line went flat, and put away his phone. Time to face the music.

***

Duo tossed his jacket onto the coat rack as he entered the apartment, shutting the door behind him. He popped open a bottle of wine and poured himself a glass, reclining on the sofa and working out the kinks in his back. He was alone, of course. He had let the girl down at the end of the date, kindly, but firmly. He didn't want her getting the wrong message and tracking him down for another date. Duo shuddered. Definitely not. One date with her was enough to last him a lifetime.

He sighed, flopping down into the cushions. Letting his mind wonder, his thoughts drifted once again to that mysterious guy. Duo could have sworn that the man hadn't taken his eyes off Duo once that night… Dammit, dammit to hell. Maybe his night wouldn't have ended this way if he'd only gone up to the guy and talked to him a little.

Quatre was probably right, he should really stop dating those fawning girls that always seemed to gather round him when he went clubbing. Nothing good ever came out of those dates. But that guy… Duo shivered. Good vibes just emitted from _him_.

He took a sip of his glass – he never drank much on dates, preferring to remain sober, though there had been moments when it had been tempting to ask for a couple of shots of vodka and drink his ass off – and proceeded to check his messages.

There was just one – from Quatre.

"Hey Duo! Decided that since it wasn't urgent, I wouldn't interrupt your time with… Petunia, wasn't it? Lunch tomorrow, same time, same place. Let me know if there's a problem with that. Bye!"

Duo shook his head. For all that the guy was the best friend someone could ask for, he was way too chipper. Then again, he had a great job, and now, a great guy, so he really had no reason to be anything but that. 

Quatre was the eternal optimist, even when back when they were kids hanging together. Duo could still remember that one time when Quatre had stepped on glass. He'd screwed up his tiny face, trying not to cry, and whispered that at least he hadn't ruined his shoes.

It was… endearing. Stupid, sometimes, but extremely endearing. Duo grinned.

He closed his eyes, unbuttoned the top two buttons on his shirt, and tossed back another swallow of wine. The blue eyes came into his mind again, and he thought randomly that they seemed to get more gorgeous each time. He drifted in and out of sleep, and even knowing that he was going to kick himself later for falling asleep couldn't stop him. The lure of sleep, and perhaps even a dream of those eyes, overcame any other arguments and lulled him into slumber.

***

Duo spotted Quatre sitting at the corner of the small cafe, their usual seat, of course. The blond grinned, and waved enthusiastically. There was no need to, there never was, but hey, it was almost like tradition.

"Hey," he said, sliding into the seat opposite Quatre. "I'm not late, am I?"

"No – I'm early." 

Duo smiled. "I figured. One of these days I'm gonna actually _try_ to beat you here."

"Good luck…" They both chuckled, and Duo studied Quatre carefully.

"So? You're not having lunch with Mr. Perfect?"

Quatre semi-scowled. "You don't have to call him that, he has a name."

Duo shrugged in apology. "Seems as fitting a name as any to me."

Quatre relented. "Fine. But don't you think he has such a nice name? 

Duo laughed. "Sounds a pretty average name to me, but then again, I'm not in love with the guy." He winked, smirking. "It sounds like Quat's getting some real good lovin', huh?"

Quatre coloured slightly. "I am _not_!"

"Oh, then don't worry, Quat, I'm sure you'll get some soon."

Quatre stuck his tongue out and turned his attention to his coffee.

Duo grinned, and gestured for the waitress to come over towards their table.

***

"You doing anything now?"

Duo looked up from his now-empty plate and shook his head. "It's the weekend. I'm all free. Why?"

"I've just completed that art project I was working on. I can't do without my best critic."

"You only have to ask." Duo finished counting out the tip for their food and put it on the table. "Ready to go?"

Quatre pushed his chair back and grabbed his coat. "Let's."

They walked leisurely out the café doors, and Duo followed Quatre as they walked on the sidewalk.

Although Duo had walked past Quatre's apartment block many times before, Quatre had refused to let him into the apartment itself until the blond deemed it worthy for outside inspection. So when they finally ended up at the place, and Quatre opened the door, he wasn't quite sure what he was expecting.

"Wow," he muttered. "What have you been doing to this place?"

Quatre beamed. "Nice, huh? Not a bad job, even if I do say so myself."

It was quite apparent to Duo what Quatre had been working so hard to accomplish in the last couple of weeks. The whole place was impeccable tidy, and everything seemed to match perfectly with everything else.

"Trowa helped me to pick out most of the stuff here," Quatre mentioned, walking into the room.

Duo followed him in. "What, you trust him to help you, but not your best, best friend?"

Quatre turned to look at him, and relaxed when he realised Duo was simply kidding.

"Friendship doesn't mean you have good taste, Duo."

"Fine," Duo conceded, "But you have to realise that this means that this means I'll be coming here to bother you more often."

Quatre had wandered into one of the back rooms, and he called back, "We wouldn't still be friends if I hadn't learned to ignore you so well!"

"Hey!" Duo protested.

"Come here!"

Duo ambled into the room. "Nice," he commented, looking at Quatre's newest masterpiece.

Some years ago, looking at something that nicely done, and by Quatre, no less, would have caused his jaw to drop, but now that he'd gotten used to the fact that Quatre was a remarkable artist… The shock had faded somewhat, and there was just appreciation of his friend's talent.

And, all right, a smidgen of jealousy.

The piece of artwork was a swirl of color, and when viewed from some distance, a shape of a person was depicted. It gave off a very ethereal image, and Duo allowed his approval to shine through his eyes.

"Great job."

"Thanks!" Quatre smiled softy as he looked at the piece of canvas again.

"Are you going to put this in the gallery for sale?"

"No." A light stain covered Quatre's cheeks. "I'm giving it to Trowa."

"Really?"

Quatre murmured a yes. "He was the inspiration, anyway."

Duo ran his fingers lightly across the base of the canvas, before turning to stare straight at Quatre.

"I'm hoping this Trowa knows how damn lucky he is."

A ghost of a smile flickered across Quatre's face. "He's not as lucky as I am."

Duo shook his head. "Hopeless. It's utterly hopeless."

"So, it's good, then? It has your seal of approval?"

Duo laughed. "When has anything done by you not had it?"

"That doesn't mean it's not nice to know." Quatre gazed at the clock, and swore quietly. Duo rose his eyebrows.

"Shut up," his friend muttered. "I'm late! I'm supposed to be at the gallery in five minutes. I've gotta go!" He ran out of the room.

"Have fun!" Duo called. "I guess I'll be letting myself out?"

"If you will? Sorry about this, Duo." Quatre rushed back in. "You can stop by at the gallery later on if you want. I've got a few new pieces I thought you might like. Saved them just for you."

"Thanks, Quat. I'll be there."

"Okay, gotta go, bye!"

Quatre flew out the door of the apartment, and Duo blinked. He turned around, and gazed at the painting, before shaking his head and snorting.

"Damn, but life would be good if I was in love with him."

Duo sighed, and walked out of the room.

The both of them had been friends for what seemed like forever. Quatre had been there for Duo through everything, and he liked to think that he had returned the favour.

But never once had there been a spark of anything but pure friendship. How perfect it would have been had there been more.

But there wasn't, and now Quatre had Trowa, and Duo was alone.

Oh, but he wasn't bitter. Not one bit. He was perfectly happy for his friend. And of course, he was willing to wait and bide his time until his perfect person decided to make an entrance.

Yes, sarcasm was different from lying.

"You better make an appearance soon," he said out loud. "You hear me? You better get your butt into my life soon, or I'm gonna be ma~ad when you do pop up." Duo paused, and grinned. "Oh, I guess I could be persuaded not to be too angry, if you promise to be extra yummy looking."

The silence that greeted him was almost mocking, and the utter absurdity of what he had been doing hit him. Duo laughed, shook his head in ridicule, and made his way out of the apartment.

***

A few blocks down, a brown haired, cobalt eyed man paused in the middle of typing on his keyboard. When nothing happened, he shook his head and continued. He could have sworn he heard something… was he meant to be somewhere else? Was he late for something?

…Had someone called for him?

*TBC*


	2. Chapter 2

Title: Picture Perfect 2/3+Epilogue

Author: Seaa (seaa00@yahoo.co.nz)

Rating: PG-13

Pairing: 2+1+2, 3+4

Genre: AU

Archive: FF.net and MediaMiner, as of now. I will be extremely flattered if you want it, just let me know.

Warnings: Attempts at humour? OOC?

Disclaimer: I have never, nor will I ever, own Gundam Wing and all things contained within. I do, however, own this fic, which I have painstakingly typed out from scratch.

Summary: When Duo tires of hopeless date after date after date, he decides to get Quatre, best friend and artist, to draw him a picture of his Mr. Perfect. Never would he have thought that Mr. Perfect actually existed…

Notes: Feedback is much appreciated and will earn you my never-ending gratitude. 
    
    Lots of thanks to Dark Tenchi for the great beta! *glomps*

***

Chapter Two 

"…I'm just damned tired, that's all, Quat. You always think that one day the right person will come along, and bam, you're married with three kids, and everything's perfect! Well, newsflash, no cute little country-house for me!" Duo folded his arms together and stared at Quatre.

The blond narrowed his eyes, and flicked his paintbrush calculatedly across the canvas. "D'you think that looks okay?" he asked, distractedly.

Duo huffed. "You're not exactly the friend of the year when the muse bonks you over the head."

Quatre chuckled and set his brush and palette down reverently. He removed the thin wire-framed glasses he always used when painting and looked carefully at Duo while sliding down to sit on the couch by the brunette. "I just never realised this was bugging you so much. And when exactly did you start wanting a cute little country-house and three kids?"

Duo scowled. "I don't. I was making a point. It's like when we were kids, and we had these crazy dreams, but we sort of took it for granted that we'd end up with the perfect person and live happily ever after."

"Right… I remember that. It sort of came between the being a rock star and being a fire-fighter, didn't it?"

"Quatre!"

"Fine, fine," he relented. "I know. But you have to realise, Duo, that you make a pretty fine catch. You've just been… hooking on to the wrong bait, that's all."

Duo gave him a look. "Why are you comparing me to a fish?"

Quatre grinned. "I'm just making a point, too. Don't stress it, there are lots of fish in the sea. Don't give up just yet, the right person will come along and you'll hook them straight away."

"Quatre!" But Duo was starting to feel better, and he grinned at his friend. "You're horrible. You've got me hungry for salmon now…"

Quatre beamed innocently at him. He bounced up from the couch they were sitting on, picking up his paintbrush once more. "You're not old, Duo. It's not time to give up just yet."

Duo sighed, wrinkling his nose. "I just… I just need something to give me hope. Just anything, just so I know that it's not completely impossible."

"Like what?" Quatre rose his eyebrows, sensing something interesting coming up.

"Oh, you know, like if I just… knew what I was looking for. What my perfect guy would look like. If he'd have brown eyes, or… or blue eyes. A strong shade of cobalt, maybe. Real intense eyes, that sort of… catch you, and hold you, and I didn't ever want to look away from him, from his gorgeous eyes…"

"Duo? You do know that you just switched tense right in the middle there?" Duo looked up to catch his friend smirking.

"Oh, shut up. You know what you should do? You should put those artistic talents to good use and paint me up my perfect guy."

"So it's a guy now? Last I checked you were going either way."

He shrugged, a tiny inclination of his shoulders. "I do. There was just this guy, the other day. He keeps… popping into my head! It's getting a little annoying."

"And yet you think he's your perfect guy…?"

"I know, I know." He grinned half-heartedly. "It's ridiculous. I never even saw his entire face, just his eyes."

"It's not like you to let opportunities go like that… Why didn't you go up to him?" Quatre had an interested look on his face, even as he slid his glasses on and gave the brush in his hand another flick against the canvas.

"I… dunno. I was sort of content to just… look at what I could see of him. And… I didn't know if he really… liked me."

Quatre pursed his lips. "So you're willing to settle for second rate, just as long as they're the ones making the first move? That's not exactly…"

"What?" he groused. "Not exactly what?"

Quatre chuckled uneasily. "Well, what do you know, I just lost that train of thought right there!" When Duo didn't find the humour in his statement, he just sighed. Duo glared at the streak the paint made as Quatre flicked his wrist yet again. "I just don't want you to have to settle for second best. You've gotta… fight for your perfect relationship to happen."

Duo didn't say anything, but as Quatre kept staring expectantly at him, he finally relented. "Fine. You're right. You're always right," he muttered, somewhat unhappily.

"Why, thank you." Quatre smiled briefly, before giving his brush a final swish across the canvas. He brought his brushes and palette to the sink at the end of the room, and began washing it out carefully, whilst telling Duo, "Push that against the wall, would you?"

Duo began moving the canvas and its easel to the edge of the room, wincing as it screeched slightly. "All done," he stated, looking at Quatre. "What're you planning on doing now?"

"What you told me to," he declared, looking through his art supplies. Quatre finally found what he was looking for – a moderate sized sketchpad and graphite pencils of different shades of grey.

Duo looked amused. "And what exactly was that?"

"Why, putting my so-called artistic talents to good use, of course." He grinned cheekily. "You want a picture of your perfect guy? Quatre Winner, at your service." He bowed with great flourish. "I only wish I had one of those nifty little hats."

A peal of laughter surged out of Duo before he even knew it. "All right, then," he relented. "Go right ahead."

Quatre coughed professionally, putting a posh expression on his face. "Oookay, sir, make yourself comfortable." 

He had inflicted his voice with a strange accent, and Duo couldn't help but say: "Quatre, I am _extremely_ glad that you found your calling in art, and not in acting."

The blond scowled in jest. "Fine, Mr. Funny Man, but I'm doing you a favour here!"

"That, and you're bored and have nothing better to do."

Quatre pulled a stool up, and perched himself up on it, choosing not to answer. Instead, he gestured to a more adequately sized easel, and motioned for Duo to get it. The braided man did so, placing it in front of Quatre.

"Acceptable for you, Monsieur?"

Quatre nodded minutely, placing a haughty expression on his face. Duo grinned. He fell back onto the couch and stretched out. "Well, shall we?"

The sketchpad was placed onto the stand, and Quatre nodded. "Go right ahead. Describe him to me. And be exact, we don't want him to come out looking like… Petunia now, do we?"

Duo shuddered. "No thank you!" He leant his head back, closing his eyes. He waited for those cobalt eyes to appear, and sure enough they did, swimming into his mind's eye.

"He's got amazing eyes," he said slowly, carefully. "They're so intense, I can just look into them forever." He waited to see if Quatre was taking it seriously, or as a joke. When no jest came, he relaxed further.

In his mind, he built upon the image inside. The eyes would be obscured, with… dark, dark brown hair. It was constantly messy, he decided, but simply alluring. The sort of hair that would make Duo want to run his fingers through it. He was talking as he imagined it: the hair crowning the eyes, and sharp features on his face. They would soften when they looked at him, Duo decided, a small smile appearing on his face.

"Pouty lips," he murmured, and they appeared on his imaginary Mr. Perfect's face. "Just slightly. He's serious, but has a wicked sense of humour. Strong features."

Mmm. The face was complete now, and in his head, behind his eyelids, he knew it was going to be imprinted there for a long time. An eye winked at him, a smirk flickered on the lips, and Duo sighed, snapping his eyes open.

The vision disappeared, but it would be there again, the next time he shut his eyes.

"Damn," he said, feeling tired. "I could have sworn…" He shook his head, clearing the fuzzy haze that had swept over him.

Quatre was still working busily, concentrating with the kind of intensity that he always used when working on one of his works. His hands were sweeping across the page, occasionally changing pencils, smudging this, sharpening that. There would be no coherency from him now, not for another few hours, at least.

Duo had once asked Quatre why he worked so hard, so continuously, whenever he started something. Quatre had said that the beginning was the most crucial, for that was when he was creating the soul of the piece. After that, as he worked on it more, working it to perfection, he was giving it it's outer appearance. Without its soul, Quatre had said, it would end up as nothing.

Duo looked at Quatre, and he felt the other man's peace enter him slightly also. Quatre looked entirely happy like that, and Duo knew that the only other time he looked that way was when he spoke of Trowa.

'Trowa is the most amazing artwork I have ever seen,' Quatre had said once, simply, and Duo finally understood, as he looked at him now. He hadn't been talking about the external appearance; he had been talking about his soul.

Quatre found his soul, his muse, his love… his had found his everything in Trowa.

The seriousness of what he had been musing caught up with Duo, and he laughed quietly, not wanted to disrupt Quatre in his work.

He wandered out of the room, padding silently out the door, and collapsed onto the living room couch.

He felt exhausted, and all he really wanted to do was fall asleep and let Mr. Perfect sooth him in his dreams.

So he did, and this time he imagined the face holding out a slender fingered hand, beckoning Duo to come closer. He laughed as the joy flooded through him, and Duo grasped the hand tightly, as he would clutch a saving lifeline. The dark haired man smiled, and Duo was swept tight into an embrace he never wanted to be let out of…

***

"Duo? Duo!"

Duo groaned, and tried to go back to sleep, to Mr. Perfect, but the hand shaking him wouldn't stop. He opened his eyes, more than slightly annoyed.

Quatre was beaming.

"You're cheerful," he muttered, voice scratchy.

"It's done," Quatre said, grinning. "You want to see?"

Duo was almost afraid to take the piece of paper stretched out to him. What if it wasn't like he'd imagined it? What if it wasn't as good as he… All thought trickled away from him.

The face staring at him was magnificent. The eyes bore into him; the lips were curved slightly upwards in a smirk identical to the one he had thought of. A strong chin rested on a slender hand. It was the face straight out of his imagination.

"Quat…" he shook his head, settling for a smile and the look of amazement stuck on his face. "You have amazed me, yet again. I'm speechless. How do you do it?"

Quatre laughed. "Took me awhile, but I finally got it. And I wander out, to find you dead asleep, and it dark out. Guess I zoned out again."

"Yeah… I didn't want to disturb you. I'm glad I didn't!" Duo couldn't seem to stop staring at the portrait. It was so lifelike he almost found himself reaching out to push the haphazard fringe aside to give him better access to those lush lips.

Quatre coughed, looking at Duo. The strange silence that had entered the room was dense and he needed something to lighten the mood. "You know…" he said slowly, "You must realise that after this portrait the three children thing might not be so possible anymore…"

It worked. Duo wrenched his eyes away from the picture with visible effort, but winked. "Never say never, my friend."

"It's late out. Do you want to crash on the couch tonight?"

Duo shook his head. "Thanks, but it's okay. He looked out the window, at the darkening evening. "Wow, it really is late, huh. I don't know where the day went." He got up from the couch, still staring at the picture and holding it reverently.

"Here," Quatre held his hand out. "I'll put it in plastic so it doesn't get bent."

Duo held the portrait out, somewhat reluctantly, a movement that Quatre picked up on.

"Don't worry," he chuckled, "You'll get it back. Just wanna make sure it's kept safely, okay?"

Duo grinned ruefully. "Honestly, Quatre, tell me… Am I completely pathetic for doing this? I'm going crazy over a picture of a guy who doesn't even exist! Gah!"

Quatre shook his head slowly. "You're not crazy, Duo. You're just a romantic." He smiled softly. "And don't worry, you'll find that someone special one day. And I swear, the minute you do, some part of you will just… know."

Duo nodded. "Yeah, I guess." He laughed, suddenly. "You are, of course, speaking from experience, am I right?"

Quatre shrugged, but Duo could sense the grin before it had even begun to form. "Just you wait, Duo Maxwell. Cupid's going to hit you hard one day, and when he does…" He grinned, slightly evilly, and Duo made a petrified face.

"Well, off with you, then," Duo gave the blond a small shove. "Get him safely put away and then give him back to me."

Quatre barely kept him waiting, and soon he was back, the portrait now safely in a plastic sheet, and backed by cardboard. Duo took it when it was offered, and ambled over to the door.

"I'll drop by the gallery sometime tomorrow, okay? Right after I get off work."

"Oh yes," Quatre said, bleakly, "Another thrilling day at work, doing whatever it is you do."

Duo stuck his tongue out. "Well, not all of us are as lucky as you."

Quatre shoved him out the door, making Duo stumble and laugh simultaneously. "It's not fair that most people think you're so damn angelic. If only they knew the real you!"

Quatre winked. "A little like Misters Jekyll and Hyde, no?"

Duo returned the wink, saying, "Well, you'll need to get yourself one of those evil laughs, first."

Quatre let out a maniac cackle, and Duo grinned as it echoed behind him as he walked out into the hallway.

He couldn't stop Quatre's words from echoing over and over in his head, though – 'Cupid's going to hit you hard one day…' Duo scowled. The fat angel and his arrows might have all ready done that, and screwed him over hard. He bet they were having the last laugh at him – was he really falling for a _picture_?

***

The gallery was Quatre's life, pride, and joy. He had invested every ounce of money – and hope – he had possessed, when he had pursued his lifelong dream and opened an art gallery.

The plan was to be able to showcase stunning work by talented artists, who hadn't quite made it big yet. It had begun as that, but grew into much, much more. It was now something of a coffee house, as well, with an area for people to lounge about and relax, all the while enjoying spectacular works of art. The artists whose works Quatre hosted were all friends of his, and they could often be found at the gallery, willing to chat with a fan or potential buyer of their work.

It was quite the hotspot for many people around their area, and Quatre had never been happier. He was rather well known and loved by all, and not only because of his work.

Not that it had all been calm seas and smooth sailing for Quatre when he had started out, Duo mused. There had been problem number one, and it had been a rather large problem, too. Quatre's father. Bigshot business man, who had not been at all happy when his one and only son had announced bravely that he wanted to be an artist.

Mr. Winner had thrown a fit, ranting and raging at Quatre about the foolishness of his decision, about the stupid mistake he was making.

However, Quatre's determination and plain stubbornness had made him stick things through. Mr. Winner had even resorted to throwing Quatre out, but the blond had never once given up.

Eventually, with a little harmless meddling on Duo's side, Mr. Winner had been won over. His absolute love for his only son had won out over the fear that Quatre was ruining his future. The man had been convinced the moment he first saw Quatre's work – Duo had, of course, arranged for his car to stall right outside the gallery, whilst Quatre had been working on showcasing some of the work.

Duo grinned. It helped to be a natural at mechanics, and to have friends willing to help him out – one who just happened to work as Mr. Winner's chauffeur. He smirked. Perhaps 'friend' wasn't the best word to describe the relationship he had with Wufei – it was something more along the lines of Duo holding juicy pictures of the Asian man in revealing situations with the blond head of security for the Winner Enterprise.

Duo was definitely not beneath using blackmail.

Things hadn't seemed quite so simple during that terrible time, but now, looking back, Duo could see the humour in it.

Whilst trying to get the gallery up and running, Quatre – and Duo – had run into numerous other problems – furnishing the place, trying to persuade some individuals that it wasn't going to become an 'Adult Art Store' and accidently ordering weasels instead of easels – Duo had yet to convince Quatre that it had been an honest mistake – being only some of many.

But it had all been worth it. Duo was convinced of that every time he saw Quatre's delighted expression.

He slid his car smoothly into the vacant parking spot right outside the gallery, the attractive sign advertising 'Expressions' catching his eye immediately. Quatre certainly had an eye for flare.

He wandered in, pausing to look at and admire some of the pieces of artwork displayed. There were people scattered around, but no Quatre. Duo went into the back rooms, where miscellaneous items were stored, only to see Quatre engaged in a passionate lip-lock with a tall brunette.

He coughed, taking great delight as the pair broke apart hastily, smoothing down shirts and trying to hide blushes. He winked. "Don't worry," he soothed, "It's not like you're doing anything I haven't done myself."

Quatre made a face at him, while walking closer. The brunette – Trowa, of course – had a bemused expression on his face, and was watching them interact with great interest. "You just _had_ to walk in while we were _in the middle of something_, didn't you?"

Duo shrugged flippantly. "I have impeccable timing," he offered. The braided young man ambled towards Trowa, offering his hand and a smile. "I'm Duo," he said, "I may run and hide, but I never lie. And I'm not lying when I say that I'll kick your ass if you ever screw Quat over."

Trowa accepted his handshake, nodding. "That is certainly original."

Duo beamed. "Thank you. I came up with it a long, long time ago. Life motto, you could say."

Trowa looked at him, sizing him up. "You couldn't kick my ass," he decided, with finality.

"Don't ever underestimate my rage," Duo said, simply.

Trowa inclined his head slightly, acknowledging the statement. "It doesn't matter. You'll never have to."

Duo gave him a sharp look. "I'm taking that to heart."

Quatre chose that moment to intervene, hitting the two of them on their heads. "You may _not_ talk about me like I'm not in the room!" he exclaimed. "I can look after myself, thank you, Duo, and Trowa-" he paused. "Well," he said tilting his head in thought, "I'm not mad at you."

Trowa smiled slightly. "Good," he rasped, leaning closer towards Quatre.

Duo ruined the moment by making kissy noises. Quatre glared. Duo cowered. "Screw you," Quatre muttered, causing Duo to gasp.

"Well, I never! Quatre, using language? I never thought I'd see the day-" The blond hit Duo on the head again.

"I don't know why I bother to help you out," the artist said, "but seeing as I pride myself in being a better person than you, I'll still show you what I worked on especially for you." He beckoned him to the easel standing near the three of them, covered with a plain white cloth.

"Voila," Quatre said with a flourish, whipping the cloth away.

Mr. Perfect, blue-eyes, was staring straight at Duo again, this time in full body – and paint-coloured – perfection.

"Damn," Duo whispered. 

He was shirtless, head tilted at an angle, hand resting on hip. Low slung black pants hung below his navel. The illusion of wiry muscles entranced the violet-eyed man; the dark brown hair was perfect, scattered about. And still, the eyes were boring into him, deep, deep cobalt, captivating him, placing Duo under their spell.

He could feel Quatre looking smug, but honestly, couldn't bring himself to care.

Nothing mattered, not while he was here, staring at the most beautiful being on earth. He was being unusually sappy – again, he didn't care.

Quatre was tugging Trowa on the arm, urging the tall man to leave. Duo ignored them.

Mr. Blue-Eyes was perfect.

***

Trowa was looking at Quatre. "Is this what you get up to when I'm not around?" he whispered, nudging the slight blond. "Painting half-naked pictured of good looking me-" he stopped, staring hard at what they could see of the portrait while outside the room.

"Quatre!" he exclaimed.

The aforementioned widened his eyes. "What?" he asked, slightly worried about his lover's exclamation.

"That's Heero," he said, in a slightly lower tone. "You know, my friend? Works with computers?" Quatre was still looking blank. "Heero," he repeated. "The guy that looks identical to that-" he nodded with his head towards the painting – and the still entranced Duo.

"I-oh! Heero!" Quatre was staring at the painting. "Are you-is that-how can-?"

"You really didn't remember who he was?"

Quatre nodded. "I didn't have a clue! Duo was just describing his 'Perfect Guy' to me, and I started sketching, and, well, you know how I get when I'm working on something." He shrugged helplessly. "I didn't realise it was _Heero_ I was drawing – painting – both," he stumbled. He winced. "And now Duo's completely crazy over this picture, and I feel so bad-" He scrunched his eyebrows together. "Why am I feeling bad?"

Trowa was smiling. "I wouldn't know," he said, moving into the shadowed section of the gallery and pulling Quatre with him. "Heero does need someone to make him have a little fun…"

"And Duo needs someone who will make him feel special!" Quatre finished. "We won't say anything to either of them, then," he whispered conspiratorially, "and I definitely won't say anything to Duo about _that_-" he gestured, "-being real…"

"At your house party, then?" Trowa asked, nuzzling against Quatre's neck.

"That's close enough," the blond murmured, "and then we can-unn-" he let out a moan as Trowa licked up the side of his neck, nibbling on his ear, all while working a path toward his lips –

After that, he couldn't quite remember what they had been talking about.

*TBC*


	3. Chapter 3

Title: Picture Perfect 3/3+Epilogue

Author: Seaa (seaa00@yahoo.co.nz)

Rating: PG-13

Pairing: 2+1+2, 3+4

Genre: AU

Archive: FF.net and MediaMiner, as of now. I will be extremely flattered if you want it, just let me know.

Warnings: Attempts at humour? OOC? Sap

Disclaimer: I have never, nor will I ever, own Gundam Wing and all things contained within. I do, however, own this fic, which I have painstakingly typed out from scratch.

Summary: When Duo tires of hopeless date after date after date, he decides to get Quatre, best friend and artist, to draw him a picture of his Mr. Perfect. Never would he have thought that Mr. Perfect actually existed…

Notes: Feedback is much appreciated and will earn you my never-ending gratitude. 
    
    Lots of thanks to Dark Tenchi for the great beta! *glomps*

*** Chapter Three 

Duo slid with ease into the familiar seat, and smiled casually at the approaching female.

"Morning," Hilde said, as she strolled up towards him. "What can I get for you?"

He considered the question momentarily, and decided, "The usual, if you don't mind."

She grinned at him. "Why should I mind? You're the nicest looking customer in the whole place, and damn if you don't know it."

Duo laughed. "I don't know whether you're trying to get me to double your tip or cut it in half!" 

Hilde widened her eyes in mock horror.

"Oh, please, no, not my tip!" She clasped her hands over her heart, winking, and proceeded to walk away, hips swaying seductively. Duo waited – and nothing.

That was certainly annoying. He heaved an exaggerated sigh and pulled out his wallet. There, in a side pocket, was the small, plastic covered drawing of Blue-Eyes – that was how Duo had decided to refer to the man now. He had found "Mr. Perfect" to be too annoying a name – after all, how perfect could the guy be if he didn't even *exist*?

The small picture was just one of the many he had begged Quatre for. In fact, he was almost positive that the aqua-eyed blond was a picture away from physically hurting Duo with one of his seemingly harmless paintbrushes.

Not that Duo was at the point of caring. What had started as a bit of fun between friends had snowballed into some sort of… mini obsession. Duo had allowed himself some slack in the beginning – an obsession wasn't quite so bad if the subject wasn't real, was it now?

But now… He felt like growling. Things were getting out of hand. There was a sketch in his wallet, one hidden in the drawer of his desk at his work, one sitting harmlessly upon his bedside table, and numerous others scattered around for his enjoyment and perusal whenever he felt so inclined. It was terrible. Never did a day go by without Duo having to pull out a picture and stare at it, cursing his luck for knowing about such a damn gorgeous person – and knowing that that person was simply *imaginary*.

He just knew that somewhere out there, someone was gaining great enjoyment out of his plight. They were probably laughing their ass off at him.

It certainly didn't help that Quatre was acting so… perky, lately. The artist – the one who was responsible for Duo's current state of obsession – had been going around with some strange secretive expression on his face. He was looking too innocent, and Duo knew from experience that when Quatre looked innocent he was up to something. Duo just hoped it wasn't something to do with him.

"Duo?" He blinked and turned to stare at Hilde's concerned face. He gave a sheepish laugh.

"Must have zoned out for a sec there, Hil. Sorry bout that!"

The girl shrugged. "No problem, Duo." She placed his coffee and cake down and hesitated to leave, looking embarrassed. He smiled at her, trying to be reassuring, though he had a slight inkling of what she wanted to ask.

"Say, Duo," she lowered her eyes, gazing at the table. "You… um… well, I thought that maybe it'd be pretty nice if we could have coffee sometime… You know, when I'm not stuck in this!" She pulled at her apron, smiling crookedly at him.

And there it was, out in the open. In other occurrences, Duo would have readily agreed, after all, there was no reason not to – she was pretty, smart, funny… But he couldn't.

Duo met her eyes honestly. "I'm flattered. Really, I am! But, well…"

"Oh! There's someone else! I'm so sorry!" He looked in her eyes, and saw no bitterness there. Say yes, something prompted him. Say no, the imaginary blue eyes pleaded with him.

"I… I just can't. It wouldn't be fair to you. Besides, c'mon, Hil, you can do better than me!"

She looked at him strangely, but smiled. "I'd be lucky if I found me a guy half as great as you are, Duo."

He tried to hide behind his bangs, feeling embarrassed. "Aww, Hil."

She patted him on the back, laughing. "No need to be modest with me, Duo Maxwell!" She shrugged easily. "Hey, it was worth a shot. No hard feelings, ok?"

Duo could breathe much easier all of a sudden. "Yeah, no hard feelings. You're a pretty great gal, Hilde."

She winked at him. "And I'm looking at a pretty great guy." She got a suspicious glint in her eye. "So, tell me about this person!"

Duo laughed. "And be your gossip for a week? I don't think so!"

She nudged him with her elbow. "Don't flatter yourself," she said in jest. "You'd only make a couple of days!"

After much more cajoling on Hilde's part, and a promise of another slice of his favourite cheesecake, Duo gave in, tossing the picture from his wallet before her. She grabbed onto it so fast he blinked. The girl was like a flock of carnivorous vultures when it came to other people's love lives.

Hilde let out an appreciative sound. "Wow. That's certainly some nice eye candy. This is a pretty nifty drawing, too. Quatre, I assume?" Duo nodded. "So, when did you meet this guy?"

Duo winced. "That's the hard part," he said. Quickly changing the subject, he picked up his empty place and waved it in front of her. "You promised me cake," he said.

Hilde grumbled, grabbing it from him. "Men these days," she huffed, shuffling off to the counter. "No more respect for women, I tell ya."

He spared himself a grin, then picked the small picture from its current place on the table, tucking it safely back in his wallet. 

Within moments, Hilde was back, a new slice of cake with her, and an extra fork. "So," she started, cutting a piece from the cake and chomping down on it. "Don't think you're getting out of telling me all the juicy details."

Duo scowled at her. "S'none of your business," he told her, stealing the fork inches away from her mouth and eating the piece of cake perched upon it himself.

She pouted prettily. "Of course it is!" Duo kept his eyes pointedly away from her.

"At least tell me how you met him," she pleaded, eyes widening ever so slightly.

He surrendered. "I didn't," he said. She looked confused. "He doesn't exist," he told her, seriously. She rose her eyebrows, and Duo sighed. "Quatre and I were having fun, and I was just describing to him my perfect person. That just sort of happened."

Hilde looked amused. "So you're pining away for a _*picture*_?" She giggled.

"Glad you find me so amusing," Duo drawled.

She was quick to pat him reassuringly on the head, ruffling his bangs while she was at it. "Well, hey, no competition! I can't compare to _*that*_ guy now, can I! At least I don't have to feel bad!" He checked to see that she was joking, just to be sure. She was.

"That's Quatre's really something, huh?"

He was about to answer, when a familiar face caught his eye from beyond the window. He blinked, leaning forward to try and get a better look. But the afternoon rush was happening, and he couldn't find the person that had caught his attention.

"Duo?"

"Sorry," he apologised, wrenching his eyes away from the window. "I thought I recognised – Wait!" Hilde jumped as the expression was out of his mouth before he could stop it.

But it was him! It was Blue-Eyes, Mr. Perfect, the guy from the drawing! Duo mumbled something incoherent to Hilde and was sprinting out the café. He skidded to a stop when he was out and looked around.

His eyes locked onto a still lone figure, standing out amongst the quick moving crowd. But after numerous times of staring at pictures or Blue-Eyes, Duo was positive he could recognise the guy – even by the back of his head.

He started running towards the guy, and as he was mere _*steps*_ behind the still immobile figure, he stood dead still.

What was he doing? He was chasing after a stranger, just because the _*back of his head*_ looked similar to what he imagined his dream guy's would. It was insane!

A young, well-dressed blond lady walked straight into him, obscuring his vision. She apologised profusely, backing off – but it was too late. The man was gone, leaving Duo to wonder exactly what was happening to him.

He sighed, catching his breath, and began to trek back to the café. He owed Hilde an apology.

And suddenly he felt like something much stronger than caffeine.

***

"You realise I could hate you for this, Quat?"

Duo shot the blond an evil look from where he was sitting, only to have Quatre grin and tuck himself even more nicely along Trowa's lean body.

He groaned, both from frustration of his current situation and the excessive amounts of sappiness the two other men were showing. "Do you guys even know what the movie is about?" he asked.

Trowa raised his eyebrows, and Quatre smirked. "Do we need to?" Duo scowled, and Quatre shrugged. "It's not like you've been hooked to the movie yourself." 

Duo made a sound, prompting Quatre to say, "Well, you haven't! You haven't even looked at the TV screen once. You've just been… sitting there, staring at that picture and complaining to me about it."

Duo stuffed the picture violently into his wallet. It caught on the edge, and bent a little, making Duo pull it out hastily and straighten it out carefully.

He made sure none of the edges were bent, and slowly, when he noticed Trowa and Quatre leaning in closer together, traced his fingers lightly over the outline of the face. Around the jaw, up to his cheeks, across his rumpled hair, lightly past those eyes that reminded him of the man at the bar. It seemed like so long ago that he had seen those eyes in real life, and he was beginning to wonder if it had simply been some weird dream.

And then today, he could have sworn that the man he had… chased, had been Blue-Eyes from this picture come alive! It was totally unjustifiable, but when the man had walked past the café windows, Duo's eyes had just been… drawn directly to him. And he had been standing still, in Duo's reach, almost like he was waiting for someone.

Duo didn't know what he was going to do. He quickly stuffed the picture back into his wallet, and tucked it carefully in his pocket. He gave Quatre and Trowa a quick glance, but they were both completely absorbed in one another.

Duo coughed awkwardly, suddenly feeling like a complete intruder. "Look, I'm gonna go. Have fun watching the rest of the movie, guys."

Quatre turned to face him, lips swollen, cheeks flushed. "You sure, Duo? You could-"

Duo nodded, smiling. "Don't worry about me, Quat. I'll see ya around later."

Quatre nodded, and made as if to get up. Duo gestured for him to stay down. "Sit, Quat. I can let myself out."

He had his hand on the doorknob, and was almost about to twist it open, when Quatre's voice drifted to his ears. "Don't forget, Duo, I'm having that house warming party in a week!"

"Yeah," Duo said despondently, suddenly feeling very sleepy. "I'll be there."

***

"Ahh… ahh… cho!!" Duo sneezed into a tissue, the very picture of someone *not* in the pink of health. His hair was twisted and knotted, and fell randomly in all directions. His nose was pink from excessive sneezing and he felt perfectly miserable.

"I hate being sick," he grumbled, throwing out the used tissue and grabbing another one from the rapidly depleting box. "I hate having a cold." Sneeze. "I hate my voice being all scratchy." Cough. "I hate looking like… like…" He glared at his reflection in the mirror. "I hate looking like I'm sick!" he wailed.

He groaned, easing himself into the couch. "My head hurts," he muttered. "My nose hurts. My throat hurts. I can't talk properly." He sniffed.

He had just closed his eyes and leant into the embrace of the couch when the phone – conveniently placed right beside his ear – rang merrily.

He squeezed his eyes together. "No no no," he groaned. "Loud, so loud, so loud."

Duo picked up the phone, gave it an evil glare, and answered.

"Duo!" Quatre. It was nice to hear his voice, but all things considered, Duo really only wanted to wallow in self-pity for the rest of the evening.

"Where are you?" Quatre asked, sounding anxious.

"Me?" Duo coughed miserably. "I'm sick, and I'm at home. Being sick."

"You're sick?" Now Quatre was concerned.

"Mm hmm," Duo answered.

"But you *have* to come over!" he exclaimed, voice rising a pitch.

Duo narrowed his eyebrows in confusion, whilst blowing his nose again. He could just picture Quatre wincing. He didn't care. Quatre wasn't sick. Then it came to him in a rush.

"Your house thing! Oh, Quat, I'm so sorry. I can't make it. Sick, you see." He laughed feebly, but stopped immediately when his throat protested.

"But Duo, you have to come. Please, please, you have to come over!"

Duo wasn't sure quite what the big deal was. "Look, Q, I'm glad my presence means so much to you, but I don't wanna infect everyone there. And I'm not exactly at the most charming stage in my life either."

"Oh, Duo, I'm sure you look fine!"

"Humph." Duo gave another big sneeze into the tissue, and threw it away, watching it float pathetically into the wastepaper basket.

"Du~o!"

"Quat~re!"

"Duo, I'm sure you'll be fine. There's someone I really, really, *really* want you to meet!"

It was the third 'really' that got him very suspicious. So he stuck to being stubborn. "I can't go," he said.

"Duo!"

"I look like hell," he protested.

"Duo!"

"I'm sleepy!"

"Duo!"

"And tired!"

"Duo!"

"I'm sick! Sick!" He threw in another sneeze for good effect.

"Duo!"

"Fine, I'll be there!" He slammed the handset down and scowled. Sometimes Quatre was the most persuasive guy in the entire *world*.

And sometimes he was just more stubborn – and, though it was hard to believe, annoying – than Duo.

***

He walked dejectedly to Quatre's apartment door, knocking lethargically. He could hear people. Happy people. People who weren't _*sick*._

The door swung open, and Quatre was there, looking extremely relieved when he saw that it was Duo.

"Oh, thank goodness," he said, dragging Duo in.

"Hey!" Duo exclaimed, "Be a little bit nicer to the guy who is _*sick*_!"

Quatre gave him a quick once over, and placed the back of his hand against Duo's forehead. Duo tried to put on the most guilt-inflicting look he had. Unfortunately, this happened to be Quatre, who knew each and every one of his looks.

"You'll be fine," Quatre said, tugging on Duo's arm. "Not the best first impression, but it'll do."

Duo tried to look outraged, but a cough formed instead. He didn't think he looked _*that*_ bad, considering that he had to drag himself out of comfortable night-wear and into more presentable clothing in a matter of minutes.

Quatre pulled him past the living room, where he saw some people giving him sly looks. Hilde was there, flirting with a tall blond, and she gave him a wink when she noticed him. Duo was hustled quickly to the direction of the bedrooms.

"Quatre, would you mind-ahh choo!-telling me exactly what is going o-" he paused, and the sound of a deep voice caught his attention.

"I'm getting out of here," the voice rumbled. "I've had enough." Duo couldn't help but think that it was a very nice voice.

Quatre was walking ahead, and Duo stumbled on after him, burying his nose into a tissue. He took a few steps forward, and walked straight into a wall – a wall that had appeared out of nowhere…

He looked straight ahead, and found himself staring at another man. He looked down in horror. "Oh, so sorry, I didn't see you – ah choo!"

He was already feeling slightly unbalanced, and the violent sneeze that shook through his body threw his sense of stability off, making him topple forward. He was caught by two arms, steadying him.

"Thank you," he said, looking at the man properly this time. His breath caught, and he blinked. And he blinked again. Then he narrowed his eyes. 

"Quatre!" he yelled, not noticing the flash of surprise that ran through the other man's eyes. "What insane joke is this? Is it meant to be funny? What are you trying to pull?"

Quatre walked sedately towards them, Trowa following faithfully behind. "Duo," he grinned, "I'd like to introduce you to Heero Yuy. He is a friend of Trowa's," he mentioned casually. "Heero, this is Duo Maxwell."

"You must be kidding me," Duo gaped. He whirled around to glare at a very smug looking Quatre. "I could do some serious damage to you," he threatened, "if I wasn't feeling so–" cough, hack, "damned sick at the moment."

A firm hand brought his attention back to the other man, and he wasn't quite sure what to think.

"You don't seem to be feeling very well," Heero said, slowly, "Would you like to rest for a while?"

A heaving cough saved him from having to answer, and the possibility of making a fool of himself. Instead, he found himself being steered to the direction of Quatre's brand new guest room.

He was sat firmly down upon the bed, and with a quick word of "stay there" Heero was walking briskly out the door.

Duo felt slightly faint. It was him – Mr Blue-Eyes, Mr. Perfect, the guy from Quatre's sketch, and quite possibly the same man from the bar that night, and the one that had been outside the café! He was positive, but needing some extra confirmation, he pulled the ever-present picture out of his wallet. Yes, definitely him.

He had a name. He was… real. It was almost too much information.

Suddenly Duo felt horrified. He had acted like a… a bumbling fool out there. In front of… him. Heero, he reminded himself. He had a name!

Duo was almost giddy with delight. The fat kid and his arrows had finally sent something good his way! "Thank you, Cupid," he whispered, staring at the white ceiling, grinning.

"Heero," he murmured, making the name into a caress, even.

"Yes?"

His eyes snapped open, and they met with the blue eyes – Heero's eyes. "Oh," Duo said, abashed. "I was just... wondering where you had gone off too."

"I went to get you some warm water," the man said, looking at Duo intensely. "Thought you might like something to drink."

Yes, Duo really liked this one. He accepted the drink gratefully, smiling at the man. Heero was studying him intently, and normally Duo would have been doing the same, but thanks to Quatre's utmost talent – well, he had already memorised every aspect of the other man's appearance.

"You… you said you were going?" he asked, then wanted to hit himself over the head.

Heero tilted his head to the side. "Sorry?"

"Oh, just then, you said you had had enough… to Trowa." Duo wandered why his mouth wouldn't shut up and stop talking.

"I was planning to leave, yes. It had been a rather… bad day." Heero seemed to be waiting for something, and he didn't continue speaking until Duo met his eyes. "Then something made me want to stay."

Oh, yes, Duo really, really liked this one.

***

They hit it off immediately. Duo knew it wasn't just his imagination when he felt the spark there, and he definitely liked all those subtle looks Heero had continuously shot him. They had sat in the room for most of the night, "hiding from the outside" as Heero had drolly put it.

Duo got the feeling that Heero didn't do the social thing very often, but he was perfectly nice to Duo, getting him drinks, making sure he was comfortable. They talked, Duo made jokes, and sometimes Heero smiled slightly, just a tilt of the lips – but those small smiles meant more than anyone else's laugh.

And by the end of the night, Duo didn't love Mr. Blue-Eyes anymore.

No, now it was just Heero.

The night had flown by, and Duo only noticed it when Heero had looked at his watch and mentioned that it was close to eleven o'clock. They had wandered out the room, to find Trowa and Quatre curled up on the couch, in an otherwise empty room, people-wise.

"We're going to go," Duo called, but as they wandered closer it became apparent that the two were deep in sleep.

"They look so sweet together," Duo commented.

"Hn," Heero said, but he was smiling fondly.

As they parted, Duo noticed Heero giving him an amused look, and asked him about it.

"Oh," Heero said cryptically, "I just realised that you don't seem to be feeling so sick anymore."

The words brought on a round of sneezing, after which Duo scowled at Heero, who was smirking. The smirk softened into a smile, making Duo reflect the expression.

"No," Duo said, "I think I'm going to be fine now."

*TBC*


	4. Epilogue

Title: Picture Perfect Epilogue

Author: Seaa (seaa00@yahoo.co.nz)

Rating: PG-13

Pairing: 1x2x1, 3+4

Genre: AU

Archive: FF.net and MediaMiner, as of now. I will be extremely flattered if you want it, just let me know.

Warnings: Attempts at humour? OOC? Sap

Disclaimer: I have never, nor will I ever, own Gundam Wing and all things contained within. I do, however, own this fic, which I have painstakingly typed out from scratch.

Summary: When Duo tires of hopeless date after date after date, he decides to get Quatre, an artist, to draw him a picture of his Mr Perfect. Never would he have thought that Mr Perfect actually existed…

Notes: Feedback is much appreciated and will earn you my never-ending gratitude. 
    
    Lots of thanks to Dark Tenchi for the great beta! *glomps*

***

Epilogue 

Duo gave his hair one final brush stroke, and deftly plaited it into the customary braid.

"Looking good, Maxwell," Quatre commented from the doorway. Duo grinned.

"Third date, huh," Quatre said, "Very important. Look at you, all dressed up!"

He wasn't *dressed up*, per say, but he did want to look nice. He was wearing a dark blue silk shirt, and form fitting black pants. Quatre was sniffing. "Look at you, all grown up!"

Duo slapped Quatre lightly across the head, and the blond grinned at him. "Glad it's going well for you, Duo."  
  


"Yeah," Duo said, smoothing out his shirt. He narrowed his eyes at Quatre. "Doesn't mean I've completely forgiven you!"

Quatre held his hands up in defence. "Hey, now, I just wanted to wait for the right moment to introduce you two."

"And the right moment was when I was sick and he had been suffering a hellish day?" Though that certainly hadn't shown through when they had been together…

Quatre shrugged. "You guys are so damn stubborn, I wasn't sure if there'd be another chance." He looked at Duo. "You ready to go? I can drop you off at the restaurant on my way to the gallery, if you want."

Duo nodded, giving his hair one last pat. "All set."

***

The waiter had shown him to the table where Heero was already seated. Duo was greeted with a small smile. "Hey," he said.

"Hey," Duo responded, grinning. "You look nice," he mentioned, sliding into his seat across from Heero.

Heero raked his eyes over Duo, sending a small, excited shiver up the other man's spine. "You stole my line," Heero said seriously, catching Duo's eyes.

Duo then realised that it didn't matter that they had only been one three dates, or rather, two and a half, and it didn't matter that he was still debating whether or not to burn the previous pictures of Heero, graciously provided by Quatre. Every worry of the day, every heavy, burden-baring thought just flew straight out of his mind, and there was only him and Heero.

Duo had never been happier.

The waiter broke the paralysis that had swept over the both of them, bringing with him a bottle of wine.

"I hope you don't mind, but I took the liberty of ordering us some wine."

How could he, when Heero was staring at him that way? "No, it's fine." Duo beamed. "I have faith in your taste."

Heero chuckled slightly. "Always a nice thing to know."

The waiter poured the wine while they were selecting their meals, Duo selecting his with ease. He had already spotted his favourite dish on the menu, and it lay comfortably between the so-cheap-that-it's-uneatable and the ordering-that-will-mean-bread-and-water-for-the-next-week price range.

Duo gave his order, and Heero did the same mere moments later, and soon they settled comfortably into a conversation that took no effort at all.

There were no awkward moments, no great silences, no worrying that he would say something stupid.

Duo wondered if it was because he felt like he already knew Heero, in a sense. If that was true – well, he should have gotten Quatre to draw him a perfect person sooner.

But better late then never, he thought, laughing at something Heero said.

The guy was definitely worth the wait.

***

Duo had done the stupidest thing he could have ever done during a harmless conversation about computers. Heero had been listing the qualities of his brand new laptop – the ultra fast modem, the large memory space, the DVD player that came with it – and Duo had gone and blurted it out.

"I got it just last week," Heero had been saying, in that voice Duo loved. "Trowa helped me seal the deal on it, it isn't even really out on the market yet."

"Mmm," Duo had said, whilst staring into Heero's eyes. Then: "I love you."

It took him something between two to five seconds to realise exactly what he had said, and another three or so to quench the urge to stab the soup spoon into his eye, and by then, it was much, *much* too late.

So now he was debating whether it would be more profitable to: a) meet Heero's eyes, b) run away, very far away, c) actually stab the soup spoon into his eye, or d) pass it off as a joke.

"Duo?" It had taken an incredible amount of effort and will power to look at the man. "Are you serious?"

He nodded numbly, thinking with great horror that he was exactly like all those wimpy girls he had dated – and hated dating. Determined to change that, he laughed, looking straight at Heero.

"Sorry about that," he chuckled, rubbing the back of his head nervously, "Didn't mean to blurt that right out, y'know? It just sorta flew out. No big deal, right?"

"But you meant it."

"Yeah, I did, but of course, you know-"

"Duo." He stopped. Heero smiled slightly, tilting his head. "I… Well, that's always nice to hear," he said. "Most of the time," Heero added as an afterthought, startling Duo. "Oh, no, not you," Heero hastened to clarify. "No," he repeated, "It was a very, very nice thing to hear from you."

Duo finally realised that those silly swooning maidens in romantic novels did have a point after all. Especially if their Prince Charming looked anything like the guy sitting in front of him.

"So," Duo said, trying to be flippant about it and thinking that he succeeded rather well, "Is there a chance I'll be getting to hear it back?"

Heero sent him a – oh, it really was! – smouldering glance that made Duo want to scream with excitement.

"Maybe," he said, but it was all he didn't say, and all his eyes were saying that would give Duo enough material to write his own romantic novel – with a few twists, of course. 

And of course, the night was still very young… 

***

Duo didn't even bother to ask. He had simply unlocked his door, stepped in, and pulled Heero in after him.

"Coffee, tea or me?" he asked, grinning at the other man and striking a pose.

Heero gripped his wrists firmly, but carefully, pulling him until they were flush against each other. He moved so his mouth was over Duo's ear and whispered, his breath wonderfully warm, "I'll have my Duo with sugar, but hold off the milk, please." Duo smiled, but Heero wasn't done. "Are you going to keep me awake all night long?"

Duo levelled him a smouldering glance of his own. "Depends how much of me you want," he murmured, then leapt deftly away from Heero's searching arms to wander over to the kitchen.

He started to shout something, but Heero's warm arms slid around his waist, wrapping Duo in a cocoon of satisfaction.

"Whatcha say to forgetting about the coffee?" Duo asked, setting down the mug.

"And go straight to my serving of Duo?" Heero nipped at his neck. "I have no problems with that."

Duo found himself being steered to his bedroom, but he wasn't about to kick up a fuss. They were tumbling onto the bed, and Heero was trailing kisses down his trembling stomach, up his right arm. He was dropping feather-light kisses across Duo's collarbone, unbuttoning the top three buttons of the braided man's shirt, leaving Duo perfectly content to let him take charge if he felt so inclined.

Heero was reaching for the tie on Duo's braid, and he pulled it off, wrapping his hands in Duo's hair. Duo reached for his head, pulling him down, sealing their lips in an urgent, fiery kiss.

He tilted his neck to give Heero better access to his neck – a silent demand for more. Heero was drawing closer, his breath warm and welcoming – and he stopped.

"Heero," Duo groaned, "what-?" He bit his lip as soon as he saw what had caught Heero's eye.

The portrait – the original one, as it happened – was sitting innocently upon his bedside table. Heero was moving to sit up, still looking at it intently.

Damn it!

"Heero?" Duo ventured. His mind was still foggy, and he did not want to have to explain himself; to have to persuade Heero that he was *not* an insane stalker type person.

"Honest, there's a good reason, and please don't be mad, cuz I-"

But Heero's lips were over his, warm and welcoming, and Duo relaxed and took it as a good sign.

"Mad?" Heero rumbled, "No, not really. A little-" he ran his hands up Duo's stomach, "surprised, maybe," he nuzzled, cat-like, into the hollow at the base of Duo's neck, "and maybe, even-" his lips drifted down, along the arch of Duo's shoulder, "a little honoured."

"Tha-that's good," Duo managed, or at least, he said something along those lines. He was completely lost. Heero was leaving a blazing trail of warmth behind; every inch of skin he touched was set afire.

"It is," the cobalt eyed man caught Duo's lips again, before he lifted up and gave the other brunette's bottom lip a quick lick, "isn't it, Duo."

Duo's shirt was completely open – maybe Heero had unbuttoned it, maybe the pesky buttons had simply fallen off, either way, Duo didn't care.

"We are going to talk about this later," Heero murmured, and Duo didn't doubt him. But now wasn't later, and Heero didn't seem quite as lost as Duo was feeling.

Determined to see the other man's eyes clouded with desire, determined to set him afire too, Duo attacked him with renewed fervour.

And after that, they settled into an evenly matched, glorious and completely satisfying routine that left them both dazed and extremely, exceedingly happy.

And Duo was left with no doubt as to exactly how Heero felt about him.

***

"Duo?"

The mentioned man blinked groggily, and gave Heero a stunning smile. "Mornin', lover."

Heero smiled. "Sounds nice," he said.

"Very," Duo agreed.

"But we have to talk about that picture of yours."

Duo pouted. "Do we really, because I think that we've discovered lots of alternative things that we can do with our time…"

"Duo!"

"I seem to remember you saying that a little bit louder last-" Heero darted down, cutting of the end of Duo's sentence, but when he caught sight of Heero's face, he was pleased to note the slight reddish sheen across the man's cheeks.

"Duo…"

"All right, all right," he surrendered. "Look, there's really nothing to tell. I was just feeling a little… hopeless, with all this… love stuff. And I happened to mention to Quat that it would be nice if I could have just an image of my Perfect Guy to hold on to. And there was this guy at the bar once, and he had these amazing eyes, and I-"

Heero was staring at him.

"I… didn't really need to say that. Heero, don't, I mean, there's no one else, and you don't need to feel threat-"

"At the bar?" Duo nodded. "So that _*was*_ you," Heero mused, looking a little far away. "I thought so, because of the braid…"

"Me…? That… was you? At the bar? 'Screw'? On that Sunday? St… staring at me?"

"Yes to them all," Heero said, smiling slightly. "So I suppose I don't need to feel threatened, though I am glad to hear that there's no one else."

"That all works out pretty nicely, huh?" Duo laughed. 

"Anyhow, I saw you, and I just happened to describe the picture that I built up around his – your – eyes. And then Quatre was done, and he had drawn this amazing picture, and there you were.

"You had me completely and totally crazy. I was positive I was going insane, I mean, I thought you were a picture! A damned fine picture, but still…" Duo sighed. "I just couldn't *not* look at you." He looked up. "Do *you* think I'm insane?"

Heero chuckled. "Perhaps just a little, but only in a good way."

But before Duo could analyse exactly what he meant by that, Heero started tickling him. Which led to other things.

Other very, very nice things.

*Fin. 27 March 2003*

***

End Note: The ending's awkward. Sorry. It was that or 'happily ever after' and I really wasn't that desperate. Also, I'm playing around with the idea of a companion piece, with Heero's POV, but I really have no promises. The muse can be pretty silent when it feels so inclined. There's also a possibility of a 3+4 prequel, so who knows? Thoughts? Feedback? Please.


End file.
